


Common Finery

by shadesofbrixton



Category: A Knight's Tale (2001)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-28
Updated: 2005-07-28
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadesofbrixton/pseuds/shadesofbrixton
Summary: There's a lack of proper coat porn in this fandom.





	Common Finery

Wat doesn't see Geoff until that night in Paris, after they've all come back from the pub and gone their separate ways. Geoff has a contemplative look on his face, and is tossing a coin purse from one hand to another and looking far too merry for his own good. Wat considers calling out to him, to ask him where Roland is, if anything, but Geoff has spotted him and is quickening his pace.  
  
He weaves between the tents to close the gap between them, and Wat has no chance but to make a noise before Geoff is yanking him into the shadow of the stadium, against one of the support beams.   
  
"What are you doing," Wat doesn't have a chance to finish hissing angrily at him, because Geoff's coat is wrapped around him and they're kissing. It's hard to think, really, when someone like Geoffrey is kissing you, so Wat kisses back. It makes him glad for the beam behind him, pressing between his shoulder blades, because the way Geoff bends him backward he isn't sure he'd be able to stay standing if it weren't there.   
  
Geoff lets him up, not for air but to move on to his neck, on to the pale line of his throat and tugs open the wide collar of his shirt. "Roland," Wat gasps.  
  
Geoff's laughter shakes against his skin. "Finish that sentence," Geoff warns him, and nips from the inside to the outside of his collarbone. "Or you're with the wrong man."  
  
"He'll come looking," Wat says, his head thunking back against the post. They've talked about this, agreed that it's better for now to keep it quiet, that it'll cause too much uproar that should be centered around William. There's no reason to get them arrested, Wat has reasoned, unless it's on William's good name. Or lack thereof.  
  
"William is with Jocelyn tonight," Geoff purrs against the tendon that connects Wat's neck to his shoulder, and kisses behind his ear, and then his cheek, and his mouth again, a haphazard scattering of kisses. "And Roland is with Christiana – " This pulls a startled sound out of Wat, but, thankfully, Geoff is too distracted to chastise him for not seeing something so obvious. "And Kate is off doing…whatever it is that she does." Geoff spreads his legs, and steps closer, one foot in between Wat's and the other on the outside. He presses their hips together, and it makes Wat make another sound. Different this time.  
  
"And I," Geoff says liltingly, "Want to be with you."  
  
"The tent – " Wat offers, hands fisting in the fur at the lapels of Geoff's jacket.  
  
"No," Geoff husks against his jaw. "Here." And he pushes his thigh up against Wat's groin, and Wat sinks down on it, the control gone from his legs for the briefest of moments.   
  
When Wat is put to rights, his brain tries to start working. "Someone will see – " he protests, pulling Geoff closer, kissing him, his mouth, trying to get him to shut up for once.   
  
"Best keep me close, then," Geoff tells him, not without a measure of vindictive glee, and slips one arm out of his coat to get closer. Wat pulls him in, gasping, and works his arm around Geoff's shoulder between the coat and his shirt, touching the hot lines of his arms, so much closer to skin without the padding and the leather and the fur.   
  
Once the coat is close in on Wat on one side, Geoff snakes the freed arm between them, and touches Wat. Not brushing, teasing little touches that Geoff has used to work him before, but a full-on grab, a handful at his groin that makes Wat pulse and jut his hips forward. Geoff just rubs, hard, working the heel of his hand against Wat's breeches, the rough canvas and smooth hide against his skin the worst sort of delicious torture. "God, oh," Wat moans against his cheek, Geoff whispering in his ear.  
  
"Shh," Geoff hushes him, long fingers pushing insistently at the significant bulge in his trousers. "Or we'll be heard."  
  
"Don't care," Wat gasps, and his hips buck again and he strangles back a sound, his eyes going open. His head thumps back again, and the stars help him clear his mind a bit – the ones in front of his eyes, not the ones in the sky. "Touch me, touch – "  
  
"Shh," Geoff says again, only this time it's a soothing sound, not an admonishment. Geoff rocks his hips against Wat's, his own hardness digging into Wat's thigh.   
  
Wat wants to feel them together, and tries to move Geoff so that they face, but he gets a negative sound in response. Instead, Geoff kisses him again; a slow, complicated kiss that takes all of his concentration not to buckle into. It's utterly ruined by Geoff's fingers, which have given up their harsh rubbing and are working open Wat's flies with quick yanks. There is nothing delicate here, nothing of the gentle fucking of nights before. Just Geoff's hand, smooth and dry against his groin, and his delirious brain too far gone to understand what Geoff is whispering in his ear.  
  
When Geoff's fingers dip into the undone flies of his trousers and pull him out, Wat is grateful of the kiss. It blocks the low groan in his throat, which makes Geoff buck against him again, and it snags the tip of his cock against Geoff's thigh. Wat squirms in delirium, clutching at his shoulder, and pushes through the circle of Geoff's fingers.   
  
It's slow only for a moment, as Geoff makes a frustrated sound and breaks their kiss to spit in his palm. Then the mouth is back on his own and the hand is stroking him, wet now, and still warm, and another sound spills out of Wat and into Geoff and then back again, as though they keep trading variations on the first sound, echoes pushing along Wat's tongue and the roof of Geoff's mouth.   
  
Geoff works him fast, blindingly fast, efficient little snaps of his wrist and rotations of his fist, fingers circling and turning and touching everywhere on him. Wat's fingers dig into the skin of Geoff's back, through his shirt, and Geoff's hips flex gratifyingly in his direction, the warm mark on his thigh proud and grateful.   
  
It isn't until he hears the whisper that he realizes his mouth is free, and Geoff's is traveling again. He sucks in great lungfuls of air, grateful that he won't pass out in the middle of this, and tries to keep his vision from swimming. Thinking it will help, he focuses on Geoff's voice. It does, a bit, until his brain starts hearing the actual words.  
  
"So beautiful," Geoff is saying, pressing hot kisses to his throat again. "So beautiful, and you don't even know it and God, Wat, oh, you feel so – " Wat never learns, because Geoff has nosed aside his wide collar and his sucking hard on a spot on his chest just below the line of his collarbone. Wat whimpers happily and thrusts again, and Geoff dips his hand down to squeeze his balls, just once, and Wat yelps. But then the hand is back on his cock and stroking again, as though it never moved.   
  
"Geoff – " Wat says, his voice shaky, unsure of what he's asking.  
  
"Want you to come," Geoff tells him, and licks the bruise he's raised. "In my hand, want to feel you shake against me so badly, god, Wat, you have no idea." Wat knows he is gaping, and gasping and then Geoff's eyes are on his own, both of them dull and glassy in the darkness. "Do you want that?" Geoff asks him quietly. "Do you want to come in my hand, and then watch me lick my fingers clean? Do you want to come and then have me keep touching you, get down on my knees and taste you right here, where anyone could walk by?"  
  
"God, Geoff." Wat has to close his eyes, and Geoff moves closer to him. Wat's head drops forward to his shoulder, and he breaths hotly against Geoff's shirt. "God, god, please – oh, oh – "  
  
"Yes," Geoff is hissing, and speeding up his strokes. "Yes – so hard, yes, Wat. Can you feel this?" He gives a slight pressure with his hand, and Wat keens against his skin. "Inside me," Geoff says, "Or me in you, tonight, please – " Wat thinks it's ridiculous that he's begging for something like this, instead of Wat's voice being the one to yearn for release. Geoff's fingers change their grip, sliding the head of his cock between Geoff's third and fourth finger, cupping just the crown behind the ridge. And then Geoff is sliding his thumb over Wat's slit, sliding the fluid leaking there around, and he rubs faster and harder than Wat's ever felt him rub him there there there –   
  
Wat comes sharp and whole, the world exploding into color as his eyes fly open, his hips buckling up into Geoff's fingers. Geoff's arm wraps around his waist and pushes him closer, and kisses him while he spirals downward, his belly twitching in aftershock.   
  
He can't breathe, not really, and Geoff settles him close against the pillar and doesn't pull away, just kisses him sweetly and pulls his hand up, and licks off Wat's come, just as he said he would.  
  
"Oh," Wat says, turning it into a five syllable groan. He squeezes his eyes shut. And realizes that Geoff is still straddling his thigh. He forces his eyes open and reaches for Geoff, who pulls slightly way and then pushes closer. A small, happy thrust.  
  
"Don't," Geoff says, but it's kind.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Wat tells him, and reaches again, and this time Geoff catches his hands.   
  
"I'm saving it," Geoff tells him with a rakish grin and a kiss. "I've been saving it all day, and I'll not have you ruin my work." He noses Wat's cheek and whispers to him, "I want to be able to come at one touch, by the time I'm done with you."  
  
And then he slips his other arm out of the coat, leaving Wat clutching it between both hands, and sinks to his knees under the cover of the tails, and sets about keeping his promise.


End file.
